


The way you stole my attention was flat-out burglary

by dragon_temeraire



Series: Stiles is a Hottie [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beard Burn, Blow Jobs, Future Fic, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski in Panties, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 07:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Stiles has a secret nobody else knows about.





	The way you stole my attention was flat-out burglary

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this anon prompt on tumblr: “I love the idea of Stiles in lances, and is his a secret that nobody know, even his bro Scott (maybe Lydia helps him chose it). But Derek is getting in his room through the window and his freez. Stiles is wearing one of his shirts (how? When? Did stiles stole it?) and is front the mirror trying his new stockings. ( and yeah, he is little hard because the view and his scents on stiles )? Or course , Stiles thinks that Derek is going to mocking but, well (beard burn al over his skin)he was wrong.”

Stiles knows he has some time alone, so he slips off his shirt and trades it for the Henley he snuck out of Derek’s loft last week. He doesn’t have werewolf senses, but he likes to imagine he can still smell Derek’s scent on it. He leaves all the buttons undone, so the line of his throat and collarbones are bared.

Then he unzips his jeans, and carefully slides them down to reveal the lacy underwear he has on. Luckily he’s not huge, so he fits in them just right, and there is a—he hopes— _tantalizing_ bulge. He kicks his pants all the way off, then leans over and slides a box out from under his bed.

Inside are matching stockings, with lace edging the tops of them. He pulls them up his legs slowly, savoring the silky sensation against his skin. He straightens them, fingers slipping under the elastic clinging to his thighs, making sure they’re even, then steps in front of the mirror.

The black fabric looks good against his pale skin, he thinks, and rucks the Henley up so he can see the way the lace panties stretch across his narrow hips. He turns to the side, admiring the way the stockings make his legs look long and lean, the way they draw the eye up to the curve of his ass.

He hopes that someday, someone will like him like this. He wants so badly for someone to see him as _sexy_ , as _desirable_.

He’d hoped to have better luck in college, hoped he’d be able to find people who were into the same things, but it’d been just like high school, and he’d mostly been met with disinterest. He was beginning to think he just wasn’t attractive to _anyone_.

Well, they don’t know what they’re missing out on, he decides.

He’s just about to reach down and start touching himself through the underwear when he hears the sound of his window opening. _Fuck_.

Derek’s all the way into the room before he sees Stiles, and he freezes when he does, eyes wide. Stiles yelps and tries to pull the Henley down, but of course it can’t hide everything he’s wearing.

“Um,” Stiles says, but can’t get anything else out through his intense embarrassment. Derek is _never_ going to let him live this down, and then _everyone_ is going to find out about this.

What a disaster.

“You. You’re wearing _my shirt_ ,” Derek says, and he’s suddenly _close_ , his whole body tilted toward Stiles, head tipped down like he’s catching a scent. “You look _amazing_.”

That last word is said a little breathlessly, with heat, and Stiles forgets every excuse he was going to make as a shiver runs down his spine.

And Derek’s just standing there, every muscle in his body tense, one foot back like he’s ready to turn and head right back out that window, and—and Stiles _doesn’t want that_. The idea that Derek, the hottest person Stiles knows, thinks he looks _amazing_ is too good to pass up, and he reaches his hand across the tiny distance between them, his fingers curling around the back of Derek’s neck and gently pulling.

Derek obviously takes that for the permission it is, and his mouth is suddenly hot against the patch of bare skin revealed by the Henley, his hands dipping under the hem to curl around Stiles’ hips. He shivers when Derek takes a couple of deep breaths, _nuzzling him_ , then drags his teeth along Stiles’ collarbone. And the way Derek’s fingers are tracing the delicate lace at the top of his panties makes his cock hard, makes his knees weak.

He clutches at Derek’s shoulders, and gasps, “ _Derek, bed_.”

Derek looks up at him, a hint of fang showing at the corner of his lips, and nods. He straightens up and drops his hands away, and Stiles turns and climbs onto the bed, hoping Derek sees how good his ass looks. He spreads out on his sheets, and Derek stands over him, still fully dressed and looking a little wrecked.

Derek’s eyes trace up his stockings, blatantly appreciative, then linger on the front of his underwear, and Stiles’ cock twitches at the heat in his gaze.

Derek’s on him seconds later, shoving up Stiles’ shirt— _his_ shirt—and covering Stiles’ nipple with his hot, wet mouth. Stiles lets out a thready little gasp and arches into it, and Derek laves the other one before working his way down Stiles’ chest and stomach.

He goes tantalizingly lower and lower, and Stiles feels himself tensing in anticipation as Derek kisses his hipbone. His cock feels heavy and constricted in the panties, and he desperately wants to be touched there.

Derek has other plans though, because he lifts away, and his hands settle on the tops of Stiles’ lacy stockings instead. He fits himself between Stiles’ legs, and Stiles spreads them wider eagerly.

To his surprise, Derek doesn’t pull the stockings down, just presses tiny, soft kisses right where lace meets skin, and each one sends tingling sensation straight to Stiles’ cock.

Once Derek has him over-sensitized and twitching, he begins to drag his cheeks across the tops of Stiles’ thighs, making him groan helplessly at the rasp of it. He moves to the soft skin of Stiles’ inner thighs, and it makes Stiles surge up when Derek pushes his nose against the front of his underwear, tongue darting out against the material.

He keeps licking, his mouth open and hot over the base of Stiles’ cock, his hands digging into Stiles’ thighs, and the burn of his stubble he feels with every movement just drives Stiles higher. He shudders, bucking up against Derek, and hears him make a low, rumbling growl in return.

He lifts his head, watching Derek bury his face in the front of Stiles’ panties, and realizes Derek is rolling his hips into the bed, clearly getting as much out of this as Stiles is.

Since he’s hard, the underwear aren’t really containing him anymore, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind. He moves one hand up, and tugs the material down to reveal a little more of Stiles’ cock. Then Derek’s tongue, heavy and wet and _wonderful_ is dragging across him, and Stiles moans in relief. When he cants his hips up into it, he feels Derek’s claws catch in the material of his stocking, and it sends a hot wave of arousal through him.

Now that he’s paying attention, he can feel the tips of Derek’s claws against his hip too, but he’s soon distracted again when Derek sucks the head of his cock into his mouth. It brings Stiles suddenly, intensely close to the edge, but before he can really get into it, Derek goes back to nuzzling and licking the length of him, hot and then cool, and it makes Stiles shiver.

Derek teases him a little, dragging his tongue under the panties, tilting his head to let his stubble drag across Stiles’ hips. But when Stiles starts to make quiet, desperate noises he relents, nipping low on Stiles’ belly before opening his lips around his cock again.

He begins to suck in the most perfect way, bobbing his head as he does, and Stiles just _can’t_ keep still, even though he can feel the fabric tearing as he squirms beneath Derek. He feels way too good to care right now.

His hips twitch and he rocks up into Derek, desperate and aching and needing just _a little bit more_. Derek obliges, swallowing around his cock and then pushing his tongue in firm circles on the underside, and Stiles jolts up as he comes hard, toes curling and his whole body spasming through the aftershocks.

Derek keeps sucking him, milking his orgasm, and he floats in a pleasant haze as Derek licks and kisses him until he’s soft again. But when he tucks Stiles back into his underwear and straightens up, Stiles finally finds his voice. “What about you? You didn’t—”

“I did,” Derek says, looking suddenly overwhelmed as he stares down at Stiles. He’s halfway off the bed before he pauses, indecisive. Then he swoops in and kisses Stiles fiercely before he’s gone out the window.

Stiles sighs and flops back on the bed, feeling sated, and best of all, feeling _sexy_.

There’s a brand new set of lingerie on his windowsill the next morning, this time in red, and Stiles smiles. It feels like a promise.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
